The Ace of Spades Assassin
by le piano a queue
Summary: Dr. Cullen finds himself in London, facing another strange murder. His stresses never disappear, as he experiences more medical mysteries and confronts a dangerous group of vampires he had hoped to never meet again. Chapt. 4 is here! Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**A few notes from the author:** This is technically a sequel to my first installment _When it Rains it Pours_, and I suggest that if you are interested in this, you should read that one first. It may be a tad bit confusing as the story advances if you haven't read the previous story. Also, just to make a disclaimer, I do not own any of Stephanie Meyer's characters, but I do own this plot. Another fact concerning plot, is that all of the medical information is accurate throughout the story. Yes, I do own a medical dictionary and encyclopedia, so I've looked things up before tying it in to my fictional story. Happy reading!

The Ace of Spades Assassin

Prologue

Alex Clifton pressed his foot firmly on the accelerator of his car as he hastily sped down the empty street. Beads of sweat began to slide down his face as he gripped the wheel tightly. His heart was pounding, and his only thought was to get away from that bloody house. Images passed relentlessly through his head as he tried to force himself to block them out. Would they follow him? Had he been seen? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he had just witnessed a murder, and it was one of the strangest and most frightening things he had ever seen. Screams echoed through his mind as a sudden wave of guilt washed over him.

"_The police will take care of it…there was nothing I could have done…"_

He thought, trying to convince himself that his flight was the right thing. Surly the man was killed instantly.

"_What just happened?" _It all seemed so unreal.

He pulled out his cell phone with trembling hands. He was hesitant. If he called the police, then he would be interrogated unyieldingly as a witness, not only that, but he would be a prime suspect. That was the last thing he wanted, being questioned and accused again by the harsh justice system that ran his country. He had to do it though, it was the right thing. He closed his eyes for a brief moment while he was at a stop sign, hoping that somehow, what he had just seen was not true. He reopened them and sped off. He made the call quickly and reluctantly. They now had his cell phone number, and would undoubtedly be calling him soon. This thought troubled him slightly, he didn't like dealing with the police.

Alex rolled down his window after stashing his cell phone into his pocket. The refreshing summer night air filled his mouth as he breathed deeply. Memories of his past experience collided with the event he had just witnessed. With another deep breath, he began to calm down. Although his nerves were calmed, a feeling of hatred towards the murderer raised within him, along side the pang of guilt for leaving the murdered man behind.

The wind blew in through his window sharply as Alex sped down the narrow road towards his apartment building. He parked quickly and rushed inside and up the stairs (he didn't bother with the elevator). He burst into his humble flat that lived in alone and placed himself on the sofa.

"Why do these things always happen to me?" He mumbled as he leaned forward. Fate had always seemed to deal him a bad hand, putting him in the wrong place at the wrong time. As he sat back up, his eyes met the gold-colored frame that encased a picture of himself and his girlfriend. He remembered that day very clearly, they had felt as though they would be together forever. He stared for another second at the happy couple in the picture, embracing each other in beatitude. For a moment, tears threatened at the corner of his eyes. The images he had seen, what seemed like only moments ago, collided again with memories of the past. After a few reluctantly reminiscent minutes, Alex dragged himself to his bedroom, anticipating yet another sleepless night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter I

Carlisle opened a large box that contained half of his medical files and began to sort them neatly back into his highly efficient, fifty year old metal file cabinet. He and Esme had just moved to a lovely new house just outside of London to accompany Carlisle's new job. He had been offered a position as head diagnostician at one of the most prestigious teaching hospitals in London. Carlisle was happy to be back in England again, but from the moment he and Esme arrived, he missed the company of his children. Alice and Jasper had accompanied Edward and Bella to college for a while, and would eventually meet up with the rest in London. Emmett and Rosalie would meet up with Carlisle and Esme later. They had fancied a vacation to Russia before moving into their new home with Carlisle and Esme.

The weather was generally constant in England. It was rainy and cloudy most of the time, with very few bright sunny days. In other words, it was a vampire's ideal living condition. Carlisle and Esme had arrived rather late in the evening, it was already dark and a few bold stars made themselves visible across the velvety sky.

Esme and Carlisle completed their unpacking at a fast pace, once they were finished the two went off to complete their separate needs to accommodate themselves into their new home. Esme began to arrange a bright bouquet of flowers on their most unnecessary dinning room table, and Carlisle sat down on a sofa in front of their large, equally unnecessary, unlit, marble fireplace to read the news paper. The moment he saw the headline, a feeling of slight unease washed over him.

The headline read: "_Strange and Unexplainable Murder pushes police to the limit."_ Carlisle began to scan the article.

"_The dead body of a man (not yet identified) was found at the abandon Westrope mansion, out side of London, at twelve o'clock this morning. Investigators have reported that there were no fingerprints, no footprints besides that of the dead man in the thin layer of dust which coated the floor, not even a single fiber that belonged to the supposed culprit. Another disturbing fact, was although the body showed a stab wound to the chest, there was hardly any blood present, a phenomenon according to Police Constable Horatio Fleming, who has experienced his fair share of gruesome, potential murder scenes._

_The only relic recovered after this mysterious and devastating event was a single playing card, the ace of spades, impaled by a dagger in the heart of the victim. This lonely card, which is now missing from somebody's now uneven deck of fifty one, holds no apparent significance or evidence. The ace of spades is also devoid of fingerprints. What could better explain this unnatural death than murder? Is there a scandal ascending from this? At the moment, police are unsure._

_There were apparent signs of struggle, according to the forensic experts who investigated the scene, which leads them believe that a second person was present, yet there was only tangible evidence that one person had been there. The evidence proved that this person was obviously the dead man on the floor, who still remains unidentified. All of the tangible evidence points to one man, that one lying lifeless on the floor. Does that make this death a suicide? Detectives are baffled as to what the significance of the playing card is. Perhaps it has none. The truth is yet to be uncovered..." _

Carlisle stopped reading the article and gently folded the paper in his lap. This surely wasn't suicide; in fact, Carlisle had seen something like this before. It was clearly a murder, why couldn't the police make that deduction right from the start? Suicide was possible, but it explains nothing. Carlisle recalled an event that had occurred on their way to their new house. He and Esme had seen a large mansion covered in ivy and surrounded by an overgrowth of trees. The deplorable looking abode sported yellow caution tape in a large rectangle around the door. Carlisle shook his head. Was it possible that calamities were destined to find him where ever he went? Or perhaps, he just came across them on his own.

Esme was humming softly in the background, as she finished her floral arrangement. Carlisle was almost certain that he knew who was behind this, and he had a feeling that bad things were going to happen to some seemingly innocent people in London if he didn't intervene. He glanced at his watch, it was half past ten. Would it be too late to take a stroll down his new street? Of course not. Especially since the scene of the crime had taken place only a block away.

Carlisle asked his wife if she would fancy a stroll along the street. Graciously she declined, as she was on a telephone call.

Carlisle set off alone down the dark street. Despite the fact that it was June, the night air was chilly. However, it didn't affect him in the least. He continued down the lane until he reached the familiar house he had seen earlier, both in the newspaper and on his way to his new home. The front door of the mansion would appear slightly difficult for the human eye to see because of the trees that shrouded it. The two story high abandoned mansion was made of red and white brick that had fallen off in bits, fragments and even large chunks at certain parts. A jungle of green ivy clung to the crumbling brick as it climbed up to the gables. A "For Sale" sign was staked in the front lawn. Carlisle had assumed that the house would remain that way for quite some time, unless somebody was hoping for a huge and expensive renovation project. Carlisle cocked his head to observe the house from a different angle.

Despite the different angles he perceived the house from; it proceeded to give an air of forbidding nature, making one want to step away from it. It was an eerie place, and Carlisle assumed that death had visited Westrope mansion numerous times, for its shadow still seemed to linger there. Carlisle took one last look at the mansion, with its derelict exterior, and wondered what it was like inside. He turned and headed back towards the direction in which he came.

As he walked home, he observed the houses around him. The one next door to his own had a large black hearse parked squarely in the driveway, causing the house to stick out among the other large, handsome dwellings along the street. Carlisle raised his eyebrow.

"_How convenient_." He thought. Two beds of dead flowers adjacent to the door complimented the presence of the, thankfully empty, hearse. He smiled slightly; the house didn't seem at all foreboding. In fact, to him it seemed ironic and slightly amusing.

The moment Carlisle walked in the door; a fluid female laughter greeted him. This outburst from the drawing room did not, however, belong to Esme. Curious, the doctor entered the drawing room. He saw a girl dressed in a black, vintage cocktail dress from the thirties sitting across from Esme. She had long, somewhat unruly, black hair tied into a fashionable bun on the back of her head. She had large, stormy, wild grey eyes and cream colored skin. She and Esme seemed to be enjoying an enticing conversation. Both women paused when Carlisle entered the room.

"This is my husband Carlisle." Esme said warmly as she gestured towards him. He gave a nod.

"Pleased. I'm Regina Sedgemoor." The guest said. Her voice was low but full of life. She seemed to be an eccentric character judging from her manner and unlikely vintage appearance. She had a petit figure that reminded Carlisle vaguely of Alice.

"Your lovely wife has told me about you." Regina said as she took a sip from her teacup, leaving a stain of bright red lipstick on the white porcelain. It was only polite for Esme to offer tea to her guest, even if she didn't drink any herself. Carlisle looked to his wife then to his trusted wrist watch.

"I'm please to know that in the ten minutes of my absence, you have already made a new friend." He said with a smile to his wife.

"Actually…" Regina began. "I sort of invited myself over. I just arrived home, and I decided I would pay a visit to my new neighbors, despite the late hour, I was interested in meeting you." She gave a timid smile.

"We are so glad you came!" Esme said happily to their guest. "It's nice to get to know the neighbors, at our old house, we didn't really have any. By the way, Carlisle how was your walk?"

"Very nice." He replied. He decided not to mention exactly where he had been off to.

"It's nice to take a walk at night." Regina said, followed by another sip of tea.

"I think it would be rather irksome to do so in those shoes." Carlisle said jokingly. Regina laughed, and her fluid laughter filled the room again. She jutted her leg out wards, exposing a pair of slender, closed toed, black heels.

"Oh, those. You see, I've just come from a reception. Actually, I was performing, well, playing my violin there." She smiled, and then sipped her tea again.

"That's wonderful." Carlisle said. "I always admire musicians. Is that what your job?"

"Heavens no!" Regina said with a spot of laughter. "I love it, truly, but I work in forensics. I'm a criminal psychologist. I just graduated in April. My father is a detective, and I've always been interested in criminal profiling. He let me help him every once and a while, when I was a girl." She said with another bright smile.

"Excellent." Carlisle said, enthused by this young girl's ambition. She seemed very bright.

Regina glanced at the grandfather clock that sat in the corner of the room.

"I've got to go soon. I shouldn't keep you up all night, you must be exhausted from your first day here, you know with all the travel and unpacking." She said as she set down her teacup.

"Yes, it is rather tiring." Esme said. Carlisle couldn't help smiling slightly at Esme's sincerity.

"Well, it's been lovely talking to the two of you. You must come and pay me a visit some time. I'm right next door." Regina said as she strode to the door.

"Thank you so much for stopping by!" Esme said.

"Thank for accepting my visit at such an hour." Regina replied with her bright smile. "You make wonderful tea." With that, Regina was out the door, walking over the lawn towards the house with the hearse parked in the driveway. Carlisle wasn't surprised. As unconventional as she appeared, he expected it.

"Nice girl." He said to Esme.

"Very." She responded as she reentered the drawing room to collect the tea cups.

"Care for some tea?" Esme said with a wide smile as she handed him her full, untouched cup.

"Why thank you." Carlisle replied as he accepted the cup full of the warm and fragrant beverage.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter II

Carlisle left for work early in the morning, before the sun was out. It was his first day at his new job, and he was interested in meeting with the doctors he would be leading. As he drove into London, he observed the early morning crowds bustling about. His mind however, was focused on the possible murder story that had been displaying its self in the papers daily. The Westrope Mansion mystery seemed too strange to be a suicide, and he knew it.

In moment's time, he had avoided traffic and arrived at the hospital. He found his office immediately and his things had already been placed in it. He placed himself behind his desk and began to file through a folder that had been placed in the center of his desk. As he was reading over the papers a woman appeared in the open door way to his office.

"Dr. Cullen?" She said. She was a relatively tall woman with graying hair that was tied back into a clean bun. She wore a very serious expression and held a cup of coffee and a clipboard. He recognized her as the dean of medicine. He had met her when he toured the hospital on an earlier date.

"You're here early. That's always a good quality." She said in a brisk voice. She had a pair of thin, rectangular glasses that rested on her slender nose.

"Pleased to see you again Dr. Lovesy." Carlisle said.

"Always a pleasure to meet with you." She answered handing him the clip board she was holding. He took it and scanned over if very quickly.

"This will be your first case; I'd like to introduce you to where your team will meet first." After she said this, Dr. Lovesy headed down the hall without warning.

Carlisle followed the stern looking old doctor to a conference-like room with large glass doors. Inside sat a handsome young man with a defined jaw and slightly messy brown hair. It looked as though his hair was drying, for it was still a bit damp. He sat at a large, circular glass conference table. There was something in his air that reminded him of Edward.

Carlisle had reviewed a list of his team members, and reviewed their records to ensure that he would benefit the most from their work. They had each been hand picked by Dr. Lovesy, and he was sure that they were of promising talent. He guessed at the name of the young man on the other side of the glass door. He had met the other two before, so he didn't recognize that one.

"_That's Alex Clifton."_ He thought to himself.

"Dr. Clifton tends to get here early also; the two of you should get along well." Dr. Lovesy said as she opened the door. "Dr. Clifton, this is Dr. Cullen."

Dr. Clifton gave a look of shock that was so subtle, that Carlisle barely noticed it, but it was there. He rose from his chair and shook Carlisle's hand. Dr. Cullen was not surprised when Dr. Clifton's hand twitched just a little at the surprising coldness of his. There was still that same astounded look in Clifton's eye that he successfully kept hidden to any regular human perception.

"Pleased to meet you." Dr. Clifton said with a slight smile. Carlisle noticed very slight tired looking circles beneath his eyes.

"It's my pleasure." Dr. Cullen responded. It was then when Carlisle realized what reminded him of Edward. Dr. Clifton seemed very covert or impenetrable; a certain trait that Edward possessed. Carlisle was a good judge of character, and this is what he surmised from his new co-worker. It was also obvious that Dr. Clifton hadn't slept well in a while. A feeble brown ring on his white coffee cup told Dr. Cullen that coffee had been Dr. Clifton's remedy lately. All of these general assumptions were the natural attitude of a doctor.

"The rest of them should be here soon." Dr. Lovesy said. "Dr. Clifton will be sure to introduce you to the others." Lovesy must have forgotten that Carlisle had met with them already.

Dr. Clifton nodded at Lovesy's instructions before taking a drink of his coffee.

"Would you like some coffee Dr. Cullen?" Dr. Clifton asked.

"No thanks, I'm not much of a coffee drinker." Carlisle gave a smile as he read over the papers on the clip board. The symptoms he read were relatively generic.

"_Acute lung infection, causing fever, dry cough and chest pains. Bleeding in left ear due to fever…" _

Carlisle stopped reading when the doors of the conference room reopened. A thin girl with dark red hair entered.

"Clifton, I swear you live here." She said observing the young doctor sitting at the conference table. "I was proud of my self, because I thought I was here early." She then noticed Dr. Cullen.

"Oh yes! You're new our boss. I almost forgot you were coming today." She said. "It's a pleasure to see you again Dr. Barrett." Carlisle shook her hand. She then moved over to the coffee pot, only to realize that it was nearly empty. After shooting a slightly venomous look over to Dr. Clifton, she pursed her lips and sat down next to Carlisle. The glass door to the conference room opened again and another man in a white doctor's coat entered. Carlisle knew that this was his third team member. Dr. Kingsly.

"'Morning Barrett." He said in a deep and precise voice. He shifted his glace to Dr. Clifton. "Clifton." The latter nodded back.

"I see everyone is here early today." The Dr. Kingsly said. He then acknowledged Carlisle. "Ah, Dr. Cullen, I look forward to working with you."

"And I look forward to working with you as well Dr. Kingsly." Carlisle said as he shook the man's hand for the second time in his life.

Out of the three doctor's he would be working with daily, the one he wanted to know the most was the quietest one, Dr. Clifton. He seemed very sharp, but he had a mysterious air about him, and Carlisle noted this carefully.

"Now that we're all acquainted, I assume we can get started." Dr. Cullen began. He opened the file that he had read through twice now.

"This patient was admitted to the hospital last night unconscious due do breathing difficulties. The woman admitted, a forty year-old Henrietta Truex, to have been experiencing various respiratory problems for quite a while, but dismissed them as allergies of colds." He looked to his new team as they half listened and half leafed through their own copies of the papers that would take a human more time to read.

"It's an infection obviously." Said Dr. Kingsly as he put down his papers. "What do her vaccination records say about tuberculosis?"

Carlisle, who had the records present, and had already, read them, answered promptly.

"That would be a good assumption, because she hasn't had a TB vaccination since childhood." Kingsly began to stand up. "I'll go run a test, then get her started on antibiotics." He left the room promptly. Carlisle was impressed by his efficiency, but was still concerned about other possibilities. He looked at the remaining two in the room.

"If you two could run tests for other acute respiratory and pulmonary diseases that would be great. I'm going to go get consent for a biopsy. Her papers say that she's a smoker. I want to check for cancer." Carlisle said. He had let Kingsly go without telling him this piece of information. Both scenarios would fit properly, and he seemed excited about his tuberculosis theory. The two got up at his command, which he was rather impressed at.

After his team members separated, he went to retrieve consent sheets for the biopsy. When he reached the room of Ms. Truex, he greeted two women kindly.

"Ms. Truex." Carlisle said with a smile. "I'm Dr. Cullen, your physician."

"'Ello." She said, letting out a long, dry cough. The other woman walked up to Carlisle.

"I'm Margret, her sister. Is she going to be alright? Her coughing fits have been getting worse, they gave her antibiotics last night, and she doesn't seem to be getting better…"

"She's going to be fine." He said with his natural doctor's response, making an effort to sooth the troubled family member. "Just to make sure, I'd like to get a biopsy of her lungs." He handed the paper over to the bedridden woman. "This way we will be able to make sure it isn't cancer." He said this in his calm, smooth voice. However, it didn't seem to work on Margret.

"Henrietta, I told you smoking would be the death of you!" She said to her sister.

"It's never bothered me before." Henrietta said apathetically.

"Well, now you could very well have cancer!"

"There's no grantee, I would only like to check. Just to be safe." Dr. Cullen said.

"Fine with me." Henrietta said.

"Alright, you'll need to sign this then." He said as he pointed to the sheet and handed her the pen. Henrietta signed away, interrupted by another dry cough.

"Thank you Ms. Truex. We'll schedule this for the afternoon." Dr. Cullen said with a smile.

**Many hours later**

After the biopsy was finished, Carlisle took the sample and headed towards the pathology lab. He was used to looking at the specimens himself, for he was one of the only pathologists in Forks. He had already made his way to the lab, when he realized that he wasn't being paid to be a pathologist at his new job. He figured that he would just hand over the other pathologists.

As he approached the office of the head of the pathology department, he heard two voiced discussing something that had to do with an autopsy. The word jumped out at him, so he stood outside the door, trying not to interrupt. His excellent hearing however, gave him the advantage of overhearing the conversation.

The voice which appeared to be coming from behind the desk was speaking first.

"Good Lord man, that must have lasted for hours!"

The second voice, the voice of the visitor began to speak next.

"Oh it did. What was really strange about it though was that the man was going to die anyway." He stopped.

"That's unfortunate." The first voice said. A chair squeaked, giving Carlisle the notion that the man behind the desk was leaning back in his chair.

"No, really. It was as though he was seriously infected with chicken pox. That was my first thought when I saw the bloke, apart from the stab wound with the bloody playing card of course."

Carlisle's interest was further sparked.

"Once we finished all of the exterior forensics stuff, we moved on to the inside. This was the most bizarre part. Not only was his skin covered in blisters, but so were his organs, his liver was really damaged, he was going to die anyways, whether he was stabbed or not."

"How strange." The desk voice said.

"After analysis, we found out that the blisters were caused by herpes simplex."

"What? All over the body and on the _internal _organs? He must have had an immune deficiency."

"Yea, he did. I've just never seen any one with such a case. Not many people that ill are subjects to murder. We found out that he had been to the hospital only days before his death; he was given antibiotics because he was misdiagnosed. They thought he had an infection, not herpes simplex. It's a common mistake; the blisters were all over his body."

"Yes, that's really terrible, but it's so intriguing."

"Isn't it? Well I need to go now, I have an interview with the chief constable tonight, they say there was a witness, but with symptoms like that, the pain may have caused suicide. But, you never know." The second man said as he approached the door. Carlisle moved down the hallway quickly so that his accidental eavesdropping wouldn't be picked up on. The two were discussing classified information, something the second man shouldn't have been discussing at all.

Carlisle watched as the man he assumed to be the second left the room; he then delivered his biopsy specimen, and was granted permission to look at it himself. He may not have been hired to do the job, but he had a license. As he made his way to the lab, his thoughts were buzzing with the case of the Westrope mystery.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter III

Dr. Cullen spent a number of hours working on diagnosing his first patient. After a biopsy and an MRI, Dr. Cullen was able to make his diagnosis. He gathered his team together to review the facts and present his discovery.

"I'm afraid Ms. Truex has Histoplasmosis. When I took a biopsy of her lungs, I didn't see any cancer cells, but I did see fungus that seemed to have been there for two weeks at the most."

"How do you suppose she contracted it?" Dr. Kingsly questioned. "She doesn't seem like the type to be keeping chickens."

"She doesn't seem like a farmer to me. The woman lives in the suburbs." Dr. Barrett said.

"It's not always because of chickens; bat and pigeon droppings can cause histoplasmosis. It seems that she hasn't been exposed to it for more than two weeks, perhaps it is a new house?" Dr. Cullen suggested. He picked a folder off the table and opened it.

"The patient records say that she lives in Surry. I wonder what she's doing here."

"Maybe she's moved?" Barrett suggested.

"It's possible. In fact, it would make sense. Dr. Kingsly if you could start her on treatment, I'll go have a word with her."

Kingsly nodded and left the room.

"I would imagine that she picked up the disease from gardening." Dr. Clifton said, placing a sheet of paper down in font of him.

"How would you know that?" Dr. Barrett asked.

"It's obvious; the woman seems like a gardener. When she first came in I noticed grass stains on the knees of her trousers and gardening gloves in the back pocket. She started talking about carnations when I was giving her the MRI. Her personality seems too robust for a gardener, but one picks up clues when working with a patient." Clifton ended his thought then lowered his head back to the paper he was reading.

"You have a good eye for observation Dr. Clifton." Carlisle said. Clifton nodded in response.

Carlisle had not been present at either of these events, but he had certain clues of his own. This young man was quiet, but he had a good eye.

"I'm going to go talk to this gardener." Dr. Barrett said, getting up out of her seat. She strode from the room and down the hallway. As Dr. Barrett disappeared from sight, Carlisle caught Dr. Clifton staring at him through the corner of his eye.

"Is there something I can do for you Dr. Clifton?" Carlisle asked.

Clifton quickly caught wind of what Carlisle was talking about, and he spoke surprisingly openly.

"Nothing, you just remind me of someone, that's all."

Carlisle found this funny and ironic, because Dr. Clifton reminded him so much of Edward. He decided not to respond, because he detected a hint of hostility in the young doctor's voice. Perhaps this person of whom Carlisle reminded him of was not good. Carlisle glanced at his watch, it was six thirty, and he would be finished soon after seven.

"I'm going to go help Barrett." Dr. Clifton said mildly as he stood up. Carlisle nodded in acknowledgement, and then left the room as well. He decided that he could get some other work done. Despite the fact that it was his first day, he still had a modest amount of work. Though, it was nothing that Carlisle Cullen couldn't handle.

Half an hour later, Carlisle's team met him in his office.

"Ms. Truex just moved into a new house, in a new development, suburb type thing out side of London." Dr. Barrett said. "Clifton was right, she is a gardener, and we think that she contracted histoplasmosis from the dirt. I did a little research, and that land used to be farm land." Dr. Barrett smiled triumphantly at her streak of brilliance.

"Good work." Carlisle said. It would make sense for the woman to have contracted it from the dirt, but she would have had to be there breathing it in for hours and hours every day. At this thought Carlisle constructed a theory.

"I agree that the disease is coming from the land outside, but I think she's quite literally breathing it in. I think that it's getting in to her ventilation some how, and when she's not gardening, she's breathing it in. Her lung tissue is heavily infected, giving us the clue that it's been constantly entering her system." His team acknowledged agreement to their boss's idea. Carlisle thought his team was very accommodating; perhaps it was because it was his first day.

"I think we should get a sample of her soil tomorrow and send it in for testing." Kingsly said in his usual efficient voice.

"You have read my mind Dr. Kingsly." Carlisle said. "I think that would be a wonderful idea."

"I've got her on the treatment now, she should be better tomorrow." Kingsly said.

"But if the fungus is in her ventilation, then we should let her know what we think."

"But of course." Carlisle said. "We'll let her know tomorrow, when her treatment is final. Perhaps then she will be willing to share her soil with us."

The summer evening was cloudy and it looked as though it might rain. When Carlisle arrived home, he noticed his neighbor Regina, walking out of her house in somewhat of a hurry. As he got out of his car, she stopped momentarily and greeted him.

"Hello Dr. Cullen! You've had a productive day at work I presume?" She said brightly. Today she was wearing a grey pencil skirt and a matching blazer along with a fashionable grey hat from the fifties. She looked very proper and eccentric at the same time. She reminded Carlisle of a very wild soul trapped in a sophisticated, upper class body.

"My day was splendid, how about yours?" He asked.

"It was fantastic, but rather stressful. I've been working on a difficult case, and now I'm making time to go see my father. We're meeting with the chief constable, about that Westrope mystery that's been sweeping London. They assume that there is a serial killer behind this, and they'd like me to see into it." She took a breath and observed Carlisle's reaction. His interest in the case was hard to conceal.

"That's great." Was all he could manage to say.

"Do you want to come along?" She asked casually. Carlisle was stunned. What she was doing was logically classified business; it seemed to be against his better judgment.

"Of course." The words seemed to fall out of his mouth uncontrollably. He glanced over his shoulder and noted that Esme's car was gone. She wouldn't mind, and he would call her later. When would he get this chance again?

"We'd best be off then, I said I'd be there at seven thirty." She gave a smile then slipped into the awkward hearse in her driveway. Carlisle made his way to her yard and sat in the front seat. There was a brief moment where he thought perhaps he should be in the back, because he wasn't technically alive. He smiled slightly.

"Sorry we have to take the hearse; dad's got the normal car." She said this with such normality that it made Carlisle chuckle to himself.

"I guess I forgot to tell you that I'm a vampire." She joked. This again seemed ironic to Carlisle, she didn't know that there was one sitting next to her.

Regina drove rather recklessly out of the prestigious neighborhood. Carlisle found himself wondering if he would be afraid, if he were not already dead.

"You are probably wondering, much like everyone else, why I'm driving this thing." Regina said. It was true, Carlisle was curious as to how she came to own it.

"Well, my mum's a mortician, and she used to also own a funeral home." She paused to wait for Carlisle's reaction.

"That's interesting." He said.

"So, she doesn't get business every day, and when she doesn't, I like to drive it."

"You _like_ to drive it? How unique."

"Thank you. No one else ever quite puts it that way." She said happily. "I hate to admit that I'm not normal." She laughed at her self for a moment.

"I hate to say that no one is." Carlisle responded.

"So true."

"What is it exactly that you will be doing when we get there?"

"You're a doctor right? I think you will find this case rather amusing. That is if you find this sort of thing amusing." She said as she messed with the radio. Carlisle was tempted to take the wheel from her, but refrained and stayed calm in his seat.

"Yes, in fact I do find 'these things' rather amusing." Carlisle replied.

"Good. Anyways, I'll just be meeting with my father, the detective superintendent…" She said confidently. "We will also be meeting with the chief constable and a few others of his people. I'm a criminal psychologist and analyst, and they suspect that the death was murder."

"_Finally_." Carlisle thought to himself. He was relieved that the police were finally on the right track.

"So they want you to take this case as a criminal profiler." Carlisle asked.

"Precisely."

"That's pretty dangerous is it not?"

"Sure it is, but I'm experienced. I've analyzed a serial killer before, and several other small murderers, if I may put it that way."

"So you're pretty good."

"If I can say so modestly." The color rose in her cheeks as she smiled. "I'm not worried at all if that's what you're thinking. Regina Sedgemoor never worries."

"That's a talent I have tried to master for years." Carlisle responded.

They arrived shortly at a London police station that was rather fancy. It was in a new building with four stories and grey cooperate windows. They went inside and met inside the large spacious office of Detective Superintendent Sedgemoor.

"Hello Regina!" A tall, thick looking man said. In Carlisle's opinion the man's face rather resembled that of Sean Connery. Regina shook her father's hand professionally, seeing that there were others in the room, and a hug would have seemed too intimate for a serious business meeting.

"Who's this?" Sedgemoor asked gesturing over to Carlisle, who was still wearing his doctor's coat. Before Regina could answer, someone else did.

"That's Dr. Cullen, famous bloke down at the hospital." Carlisle recognized the man who answered as the pathologist he had over heard that same day. Carlisle didn't consider him self famous, but he did have a lot of accomplishments both in diagnostic medicine and pathology. The pathologist got up from his chair and shook Carlisle's hand.

"We could use you in the pathology department." He winked slightly and then spoke again. "I'm Dr. Diamond."

"Pleased to meet you." Carlisle said. The man then sat down. After that, no body had a problem with his presence. He was free to listen.

"Alright gentlemen, and lady." Detective Sedgemoor began. "I have reason to believe that this is not the first time this kind of murder has happened. I recall a case about five years ago, where a girl was killed inside Westrope mansion, you all remember that I presume, we never caught the guy."

Carlisle was somewhat stunned to learn about this past event that didn't carry over to America. However, he didn't let his surprise become apparent in his face.

"Last time a woman by the name of Evelyn Rogers was murdered in Westrope mansion, and she was found by her boyfriend, he was our first suspect, but then it just went down hill from there. We never found the real killer. We can identify the recently dedicated man as Andrew Woods. We are currently searching for a link between the two. We did have a witness, but the call came from a cell phone, and we can't locate him. He's also on our list of suspects."

"Has the body actually been identified?" Dr. Diamond said.

"No, we've only had the ID from his wallet." The chief constable said. "He's only been missing for forty eight hours now, so I would assume that with in the next week or sooner, now that we think we know who he is, we can start investigation." Dr. Diamond nodded in agreement then leaned back in his chair.

"Dr. Diamond, I'd like to see your autopsy report." Superintendent Sedgemoor said. Dr. Diamond handed a white folder over to the detective. Sedgemoor looked over the documents and then began to speak.

"So you say this man was ill?"

"It would seem that way. After careful inspection I found that he had a low white count, meaning that his immune system was low. I think this is how the virus herpes simplex spread, but I've never seen it so…abundant. I noticed a scab on his inner lip, I think he was, perhaps, kissing someone and got himself bitten. That seems to be the most logical explanation." Dr. Diamond said.

"That is a little odd." The chief constable said. "If he had herpes…don't you think he was doing a little more than just….kissing?"

"No, no, constable, this is herpes simplex, just blisters. When ever someone gets a cold sore, that's herpes simplex." Dr. Diamond said informatively. The constable bowed his head in slight embarrassment.

As medical talk continued for at least half an hour, Carlisle continued to think about the case. There had been another murder previously at the Westrope mansion. No wonder it had seemed so abandoned. As his thoughts proceeded he spoke.

"Sorry to turn the subject detective, but was there a playing card found at the last murder scene?"

The detective paused for a moment. "I'm glad you asked, because there was." The detective opened up another folder and shuffled the papers for a moment. Finally he located the correct one and read through it with haste.

"It was an ace of spades…"

There was silence in the room for a brief second. "It looks like we've got ourselves a serial killer." Regina said. "Either that or we have an imitator. That happens in some cases." The four other men in the room nodded. Before anyone else could answer, there came a beeping noise from the phone. Detective Sedgemoor answered it.

"Yes Ellen? Already? Well, I'm in a meeting right now, about his autopsy, so send Flint down for me and Fleming and I will meet him in ten minutes. Alright, thanks." Sedgemoor hung up the phone and exhaled deeply.

"We've got somebody who thinks that they can formally identify the body. I've told Ellen to have detective Flint meet us down at the morgue." Sedgemoor was directing his words at the chief constable. "So let's wrap this up. We know his condition, and we know something weakened his immune system, but your results have not returned yet." Sedgemoor said in Dr. Diamond's direction.

"Precisely." Diamond responded. "I'm guessing an immune deficiency, but I haven't examined all of his records yet. Something like the flu or a bad cold could have lowered his immune system, but I think this had little to do with the murder. I'd like to find out who he was kissing, that might lead us in the right direction."

"How many women do middle aged men kiss besides their wives?" Regina said.

"This guy didn't seem to be married; there was no mark of a wedding ring." Diamond said.

"Maybe he was a bad husband." Regina replied.

"Or he could have been single." Diamond pressed.

"He might as well have been." Sedgemoor said with a slight smile. "Wait until you see who is identifying him." The other four looked at him in anticipation.

"Olivia Calvert. He was her manager."

The others seemed a little shocked. Olivia Calvert was a big celebrity and supermodel. She was a movie star, and the mentioning of her name seemed larger than life. What was her manager doing at Westrope mansion?

"If this is true, the Calvert could be in danger." Chief constable Flemming said.

"I was just thinking that, we'd better get down to the morgue Constable." The two stood up and bided their good byes to everyone else. After their departure the rest filled out of the room.

"Olivia Calvert." Regina said with little animation in her voice. "She's a bit too arrogant for my taste; she's a bit of a snob." Regina spoke as if she knew Olivia Calvert, reflecting the opinion she had developed from the various films and magazine's Calvert had graced. The two filed into the elevator and made their way to the garage, where Carlisle would endure another reckless ride in Regina's hearse.


	5. Update from the Author

Well, it's been a while since I've updated due to my strenuous schedule of hard classes and a great number of standardized tests. Due to those events, I've had little time for anything else besides studying. Now I have time, so if you want me to keep the story going, just say so. I'll start up again if I hear from people. Thank you.


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